


Spilt Coffee

by Casmonster1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, soul mates, talks over coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casmonster1/pseuds/Casmonster1
Summary: John had tried to leave London and start new, hoping to have a new life. Little did he suspect finding his Soul Mate in Paris.





	

John picked up his bagel, turning to sit at one of the tables the café offered on the terrace. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows as he walked, He had needed a change of scenery and it was beautiful here. He was admiring the blooming trees before he ran into someone, his coffee falling to the tiled floor as he held tight to his bagel.

Jim felt the heart on his arm heat up, first sign.... I could not have met my soul mate here, in a small café five blocks form my flat. Jim leaned down to retrieve his water bottle form the floor, now sod off. But Jim didn't say any of that, instead. "My bad, buddy."

John felt a shock run through him, , he looked the man over, not exactly his type, but he was not unpleasing to the eye. Even if he wasn't the person John would have chosen as a soul mate, the tattoos never lied, this must be the Jim Moriarty he had dreamed of, an Irish voice in his dreams that always lulled him to sleep after fights with his Father. "No problem, mater. It was my fault as well."

Jim smiled, he felt instantly relaxed, this was his Johnny. The man had only been a dream, but soul mates got in the way. "I can buy you a replacement for your coffee."

John had been so caught up in staring at the man that he had forgotten his coffee had spilt. "Oh. Sure."

Jim pushed past his apparent soul mate, I have no time for this.. He kept his accent up as he ordered a coffee, letting it slip off as he sat opposite chair. "Here"

Oh aren't you just the charmer. John accepted the coffee, nodding. "Thanks."

Jim pushed up his sleeve, showing the tattoo that read 'John Watson' "Let's get this out of the way, Johnny boy. I was in no way looking for my soul mate, especially not in a hole in the wall café in Paris."

John had no doubt in his mind that this was his soul mate, but just because the man wasn't the charmer he had been expecting. "Our tattoos match, that in no way makes us soul mates." 

Well at least we are in agreement. "That shock did kind of seal the deal, but I'm not looking for a Soul mate at the moment. Far too busy." Jim sipped his coffee, he had too many plans for the crime underworld to let his web slip through his fingers.

"Let's start slow, would you like to go to dinner, James?" John offered, it was small, but it would build trust.

James.... Jim burnt his tongue as he stared at the man. No one knew to call him that, no one dared... how could this man- all those stories, the ones where the Mates hear each other before they meet. But John had always been there when he couldn't sleep, offering stories and kind words, always the voice of comfort. Was this what it was like? Having someone know you better than yourself? "I-I'll buy, but you must have a better outfit than that." 

Jim waved a hand at Johns white shirt and black jacket, he didn't need his Soul Mate dressed like that.

John took a bite of his bagel, a pink tint coloring his cheeks. "I was not looking o dress like a model, Jim."

Jim felt an odd emotion in his chest, was that he anxious or he that man-John must use his name, be feeling this? Was he already feeling what the man across from him was feeling? "I didn't mean to offend you."

John took a drink of his coffee, stalling, he wasn't upset, just a little put off. But they had to make a start of this somehow. "I'll dress better for tonight, dinner at seven?"

Jim breathed a sigh of relief, oh they got over that bump. "Seven sounds good, I can send a car if you would allow me to have your address."

John grabbed a napkin, writing his name and number down, sliding it across the table. Smiling as his fingers brushed Jim's. "I'll be ready, Jim."

Jim picked the napkin up after his body got over the shock of touching, that had to stop, it was very distracting... "I will try to not spill your drink, Johnny boy."


End file.
